The Fall's Gonna Kill You
by Filter
Summary: A day in the ridiculous life of the staffers, with Josh and Toby playing at being the Harlem Globetrotters in Iowa during the caucus.


The Fall's Gonna Hurt Ya

By Filter

Standard Disclaimer about all characters, etc, belonging to Aaron Sorkin, WB, the actors who perform them, etc etc. I'm just foolin' with 'em a little.

Rating: G for Goofy

Archive: Keep my name on it, I guess I don't care!

Spoilers: Probably none, if you already knew Iowa has first in the nation caucuses—I'm playing with the timeline of The Two Bartlets a little.

Not betad, feedback is fine but not important for something so goofy and short , and I'm pretty sure it's spell checked…

Toby/Josh-centric, with assorted other people. It's my first!

"Do you think you're gonna head this way any time soon, there, Josh?" Toby asked as he shifted lightly back and forth on his feet, waiting for what seemed too long for Josh to charge the basket. He knew by the smile on Josh's face that when Josh came at him, he would be looking to plow right through him on the way up to Josh's patented left-handed layup.

"You know, you're really lucky no one's here now, Toby, 'cause when I smear you across this court only the work-study'll know," Josh answered, a merry smirk on his face as he dribbled briskly, almost dancing as he shot the ball back and forth between his legs. Toby glanced over the Iowa Field House floor at the single student assiduously not watching them play. He wondered briefly where the other 40000 or so students could be. _I am glad they're not here to see two senior White House staffers basically talking smack about basketball_, he thought.

"They're probably down at what, what was it? Beef days? Butter days?" Toby said, batting at the ball Josh dribbled.

Josh lithely moved back and then forward, rising up a little on his toes as he readied to drive forward. "That fair. The butter cow thing. Remember, Sam and CJ went? Instead of playing with us. What a waste of two hours!"

"I guess. Not much more of a waste than waiting for –"

Toby's sentence was cut off as Josh spun to his left and drove toward the basket. Toby shuffled back and turned, jumping up to smack the ball out of Josh's hands as he leapt up—_where'd he get that vertical leap from? _Toby wondered briefly— and they slammed together hard, Toby's up-and-forward jump pushing Josh away from the basket.

Their legs tangled briefly and Toby felt himself falling backward. He managed to get one leg untangled and hit the floor with it first, softening the impact with the court. He grunted a little and felt pain shoot up his arm from his wrist as he landed.

Josh was taken by surprise by Toby's speed—he hadn't expected the older man to be able to meet his drive. The impact with Toby was hard and Josh let out a surprised squawk as the ball flew from his hands. He expected to fall but his right leg tangled with Toby's and when he hit the floor awkwardly his left leg was under him at a bad angle. When he finished the spinning fall his left ankle was still planted under him at an angle nature had never intended.

"Josh? Josh!" Toby shouted as he heard the loud scream of pain. He pushed himself off the floor and yelped himself when he felt the flare of pain in his right wrist. Toby ignored it as best he could and ran to Josh, kneeling next to him on the court. "Josh, you okay?"

Squeezing his eyes shut to stop his tears of pain, Josh gasped a little as he got his breath back. He tried to push himself onto his back and yelled again. "Toby—I—I think I did something," he said, eyes still shut.

Toby blinked in confusion and then saw the odd angle of Josh's ankle. "Shit. Oh, Josh. Uh—hey, hey stay there. Just stay still." Toby ran over to the work-study student, who'd stopped reading her book and had been watching the two of them after she heard the screams.

"What happened?" she asked as a breathless Toby came up.

"I think—I think he broke his ankle. It's not looking good, how do we get to the hospital? Hello?" Toby's rushed questions were cut off as the woman grabbed a large first aid kit from the wall behind the desk and shot out of the office and onto the court. Toby followed her back to Josh.

"Hi, My name's Emily. Can you open your eyes and talk to me?" she asked as she knelt next to Josh, who had broken out in a sweat.

He forced his eyes open and blinked in confusion at the young woman over him. He flicked his eyes to Toby and back. "I—I hurt something," he managed.

"Can we just get him to a hospital?" Toby asked urgently. He had been ignoring his own wrist pain but could feel it gnawing its way into his nervous system.

"I'm a senior sports therapy and pre-med student. I just wanted to see if he had broken his ankle. And you know what—" she said as she very lightly traced the rapidly swelling ankle with gentle hands, "he has."

Josh groaned. "No, no, no, no…"

"Oh, no. Okay, well, let's get him to a hospital, how far—"

"The Field House is basically attached to the UI main hospital. You're about two hundred yards from the emergency room door. I can call the ambulance, or if you'd like, I think we have a wheelchair and we can just wheel him over. All right?" She thought the two of them a little too freaked about a simple broken ankle and, from what she could see, a broken wrist.

Toby's eyebrows raised. "Oh. Yeah."

Josh had managed to push himself onto his back and lay panting. "To—Toby, don't let 'em screw me over with insurance."

Toby grimaced. "Shut up. Okay, thanks—can we just get him moving?"

"You should also have them set your wrist," Emily said when she brought the wheelchair back.

"It's fi—_iine!_" Toby's voice shot up in a yelp of pain, his wrist bones grinding together as he helped Emily get Josh into the wheelchair. "It's fine," he finished, sweat sheening his body now.

"Tobe, dude—I'm gonna tell CJ you beat me up," Josh said, shivering a little but seeing the humor in the moment—particularly Toby's ashen and guilty face.

"Josh, I'm gonna break your other leg if you don't shut up. Hey—so which way do I go?" Toby asked, left hand on the wheelchair handle. Emily shook her head.

"Where you guys from? Look, I'll let someone know I'm going to the hospital with you. Give me a minute."

Within two minutes, Emily had taken the chair herself and was pushing them out the back of the gym and across the street into the hospital. Toby held his arm closely to his body, feeling the pain in his wrist now that he had a moment to consider himself. He was concerned with Josh primarily, but somewhere he knew they were going to catch hell for playing ball like 18-year-old fools.

Emily brought them into the emergency room and got the nurse on duty to come over. She explained briefly what had happened and that she believed Josh's ankle was broken.

"And I think he's got a broken wrist. They're stubborn, so just beat 'em down if they give you grief," Emily said with a smile. Toby grimaced.

"Thanks," he said. Emily shook her head.

"No problem. They'll take good care of you. And you'll probably want these," she said, handing Toby his and Josh's cell phones from her jacket pocket.

Toby gathered them in, stuffing them in his shorts pockets. He felt a little more grateful. "Thank you. I appreciate it."

"Be good." She said, and left, mentally wishing them well. Toby turned and was pleased to note that the nurse was wheeling Josh away. He followed and prayed the phones in his pockets wouldn't ring.

Across town, CJ and Sam were getting back to the hotel after their brief trip to the county fair. They were smiling and laughing as they burst into the lobby. CJ was eating cotton candy and Sam was finishing a candy apple.

"The butter Elvis—I ask you, Samuel, have you ever seen anything so sublime, so ethereal, in your life?" CJ asked, on a sugar high. Sam laughed.

"I would have been happier if he'd been the Older Elvis—something about white leather and studs just calls for butter replication."

"Ah, I have to disagree. But Sam—you gotta admit, a county fair is about as America as it gets, huh?"

"And in Iowa, no less. Hey—when were we all supposed to meet before the Harkin reception?" Sam asked as they stepped into the elevator. CJ licked the silky spun cotton off her lip.

"Um, Leo wanted us at the university by four so we could cover the senator's main issues—he's the Ag chair, so I imagine we should brush up on our John Deere."

CJ gave him a shame-on-you look as she got off the elevator on her floor. "Elitist farm snob. I hope you eat a mutated corn chip. Look—it's two now, we should get together before and all go over at the same time. Harkin's running for reelection, and he's a big boy, so we should talk about it beforehand. The president decided to stay the night to be at the event, remember? Change, and I'll call Josh. I think they were gonna go play basketball or something. You call Toby and tell him he missed a serious dairy experience. We're supposed to meet Leo at the main ballroom, 4pm. Go," CJ said as the elevator doors closed on Sam. She went down the hall to her room, chirping "butter, butter, butter" under her breath. So far, she liked how things were going in Iowa—_what a nice, Midwestern, uncomplicated place._

"Josh, look. You wanted me to just stand there while you ran me over? Come on, man!"

Toby was protesting Josh's hurt and pained look. Josh's ankle had been set already—a bad compound fracture, two pins—and Josh was sitting in a side chair in the room, leg up, as the doctor set Toby's wrist. They'd determined to tell CJ and Sam they'd been playing two on two with a couple of Iowa Hawkeye basketball players and had been in the lead when tragedy struck.

"I didn't expect you to fly at me like Batman," Josh said, pouting. He'd been looking forward to maybe doing a little dancing at the reception for the Iowa senator.

Toby rolled his eyes. "If only I was… Josh, we're even. I—ow!"

"Mr. Ziegler, I'm almost done, just hang on," the doctor said. He'd grown tired listening to the two men go back and forth on whose fault it was. He didn't know what they did but thought they should consider another line of work.

"Sorry," Toby growled. He shot Josh a look of oh-we're-not-done-yet and Josh frowned.

"All right. It's not terribly bad, Mr. Ziegler. It'll heal fine. You, on the other hand, Mr. Lyman, should be careful. Those pins will need to be checked to make sure you haven't made them shift or slip. Don't walk on it, run on it, and try not to drive. You do that, you'll be fine. Have your doctor check you out when you get home."

"I can't even drive? Oh, I am so gonna hate my life," Josh said.

"I hate my life already, Josh, you get used to it. Thank you," Toby said.

In fifteen minutes Josh had his aluminum crutches and Toby held his arm closely to him. They moved slowly down the sidewalk.

"Toby," Josh said.

"What?"

"We walked to the gym from downtown."

"Damn."

Toby reached into his pocket for his cell phone and almost dropped it as it rang. He juggled it before answering.

"Hello?"

"I'd forgotten how good this candy apple stuff was, you know that?"

Toby sighed and stopped walking. Josh halted near him and asked wordlessly _Who?_

Toby mouthed "Sam". "Please tell me you called for a reason, Sam."

"Yeah. We need to get together here before the Harkin reception. CJ wants us all to go over together, Leo needs us at the university at 4."

"All right. Meet at 3 at the hotel?"

"Sure—hey, Josh with you?"

"Of course."

Sam smiled in his room. "Tell him he missed an amazing dairy experience, and besides, I got to dunk a county sheriff in the dunking booth."

"I'm hanging up now, Sam."

"Of course."

"No! Sam, wait. Listen," Toby rubbed his forehead in pained thought with his cast hand. "Look. Just—I need you to do something without making a big deal. Josh and I walked over to play ball, and we need you to come pick us up."

"You played that hard? Who kicked ass?"

"Sam—just come pick us up. We're outside the big gym—ask the desk. We'll be waiting, so hurry up," Toby said tiredly. He waited for Sam to say okay and hung up. He closed his eyes briefly, then turned to Josh.

"Sam's coming. Let's go sit out front."

"Did they have fun at the fair?"

"Josh—shut up."

In ten minutes, as they sat on the stairs to the Field House in silence, Sam and CJ drove up in their rental. CJ got out of the passenger side and her broad smile disappeared when she saw the hangdog look on Toby's face, the cast on his wrist, and the bright pink cast on Josh's ankle.

Toby stood. "CJ, don't," he said.

"Toby—" she began. Sam stepped out of the car and also halted.

"Please, CJ," Toby pleaded as she stepped forward. He saw Sam's smile also disappear as he came around the car. Toby stood as CJ came over to stand in front of Josh, who was feeling distinctly scolded.

"Toby—" Sam said as he came up to them.

"Sam—" Toby said helplessly.

"Josh—"

"CJ, I—"

"_Toby," _CJ's voice was rising.

"CJ!"

"Josh—what—"

"Sam, I—"

"_Toby!"_

"_CJ!"_

"SAM!"

CJ, Toby, and Josh all turned on Sam at the same time, frustrated. Sam's mouth dropped, closed, and opened again. He thought better of it, crossed his arms, and said "Okay."

"CJ, look, I'd love to give you the details but I'm hurting, Josh is hurting, I'm sweaty, and I'm going to hurt someone else just so I can feel better if you don't get me off these stairs and into a shower soon," Toby said. Josh raised his brows.

"Whoa. Will you get me into a shower too, CJ?" he asked. CJ's thunderous look at him shut him up. "Sorry."

"Get into the car now. Sam, help Wonder Boy there. I'll drive."

"Okay."

The short drive back to the hotel was quiet and tense. Sam, in the back with Josh, thought about asking what had happened, and thought perhaps he'd like not to get his head taken off by a pissed-off CJ. In front, Toby felt the waves of anger and disgust washing over him from CJ. He felt pretty sheepish already, and he hated the feeling.

They pulled up outside the hotel. CJ shut off the engine and breathed deeply.

"Here we are," Sam said weakly. He noticed the valet was coming up to the car and tried to bring CJ's attention to that before—

"CAN I NOT LEAVE YOU TWO MORONS ALONE WITHOUT YOU MAKING LIKE ABBOTT AND COSTELLO?" CJ screamed, right as the valet walked up to the open window. He recoiled quickly and Sam shot out of the car.

"Uh, give us a minute," he advised the young valet, who nodded with wide eyes.

"CJ, can we not do this now?" Toby asked, wincing. In response CJ got out of the car, leaving the door open, and leaving the three men staring at each other.

"Well, that went well, I think," Josh said from the back.

Sam made the phone calls for everyone, making sure Toby, Josh, and CJ would all be in the lobby bar at 3. He was sighing to himself, his butter and candy apple experiences fading unhappily, as he entered Josh's room.

"Josh?" he asked, wondering where Josh could be hiding. He heard a curse from behind the bed and a hand clawed up onto the bed. Sam went over and saw a sweaty and half-dressed Josh laying on the floor. "Can I help?"

Sam helped Josh sit on the bed. He noticed Josh had almost gotten a sock over his cast. "What were you doing?"

"I thought maybe I could like, you know, wear a shoe."

"You're an idiot."

"Apparently. Will you give me a hand?"

"Sure." Sam helped Josh pull off the sock and handed him his pants. "So."

Josh slid the pants on and frowned at the pink cast sticking out from the left leg. "So."

"You gonna tell me what happened?"

Josh looked up at Sam with a decidedly apprehensive look. "Uh, I think maybe I'll let Toby tell the story. I thought he was gonna break my other leg."

"Why?"

"I think he felt bad, and when he feels bad it makes him feel like hurting something."

Sam considered. "Huh. Okay. You need anything else? Gotta be down in the bar at 3."

"I'm good."

"All right. I'm gonna go and, you know, brave Toby. I feel like that duck."

"Duck?" Josh asked, tucking his shirt in. "What duck?"

"You know, the one. In that kid's book Donna got for her nephew. With the cows."

"Sam, you gotta get the cows off your mind, man."

"Yeah. See you downstairs."

"What?" Toby bellowed as he awkwardly clacked away at his laptop, his cast right hand hampering his typing. He looked up at Sam's head peeking in. "Yeah?"

"We're in the bar at 3?"

"Yeah."

Sam risked stepping into the room. "Hey, Toby?"

"Yeah," Toby said as he concentrated on typing, biting his lower lip.

"Could you, maybe, you know, like keep CJ off my back? I mean, I didn't have anything to do with you and Josh doing battle or anything, and—"

Toby cut him off with a withering look. Sam nodded his head. "Well, all right. Still—" Sam smiled, knowing Toby wouldn't be able to reach him or throw his laptop, "I bet he was giving you an ass-whuppin'."

Sam escaped out the door before Toby could even form an angry thought and headed down to CJ's room. He knocked and came in at her light "Come in!"

"Sam, how you doing?" CJ asked, fixing earrings on. She was wearing a lovely gray silk dress and looked, Sam thought, entirely too happy.

"I'd prefer not to be the messenger duck, but—you look good!"

CJ turned. "You too. Duck?"

"Never mind. It's a kid's story, got cows and stuff in it. Look, I just want to reiterate and establish I had nothing to do with Toby and Josh. I don't even know them."

CJ took her small purse and went out with Sam, pushing him ahead of her a little. "Sam, I know. I'm sorry you had to be the middleman on this. But—I can tell you some interesting factoids about their basketball game."

Josh had been in the bar for several minutes prior to 3, sadly stirring a ginger ale. He'd been given painkillers for his ankle and though he'd wanted to resist, he had taken one before leaving his room early so he wouldn't have to limp in after everyone else was there. The pain had dulled quite a bit but now Josh knew he couldn't drink, and he was very sad he'd have to sit through a reception/fundraiser without a drink.

He saw CJ and Sam, and beckoned them over. CJ raised Josh's injured leg and settled into the chair he'd been resting it on before carefully putting his foot in her lap. Sam sat across from CJ and Josh noticed a small and wise smile on his face.

"How you feeling, Joshua?" CJ asked. She saw his face darken with suspicion.

"I'm good."

"Feeling no pain, Kobe?" Sam asked, smiling even more broadly. Josh regarded him with suspicion.

"I said I'm good—what are you smiling about?"

"Hello," Toby said shortly as he came to the table, sitting carefully next to CJ. "Josh, how you doing?"

"I'm okay—why's everyone keep asking me that?"

"No reason, Shaq," CJ said. Toby looked at her with curiosity.

"Look, all right, what's the deal?" he asked.

"Hey, Tobe, why didn't you get the pink cast?" Sam asked, regarding Toby's black hand cast. Toby shot him a murderous look. "Okay."

"So, I had a little conversation with a student today, and then with a doctor. I didn't know how you two could possibly have both broken body parts."

"There were these two Hawkeyes," Josh began. CJ shut him up with a look and a pat of his cast.

"Whatever, Air Josh. Now, realizing we're running a campaign, realizing we have to be on the move, realizing if I threw you both in front of a bus I'd take a little heat from Leo—"

"—but I'd be promoted," Sam piped in. Toby didn't like the smile on Sam's face.

"Yes," CJ continued. "Given all that, I want to make it clear that for the sake of the team I'm not going to publicize widely that you two were making like the Hoyas and tripped over your own selves. I tried telling you the fall was gonna hurt ya."

Josh had turned red. Toby was trying not to look embarrassed. "CJ, it was just a little one-on-one," Toby began weakly.

"And I was leading," Josh chimed in.

"Guys—look." CJ cut them both off.

"You were not," Toby edged in.

"Shut up, Tobus."

"Okay."

Sam leaned forward. "I think what CJ is saying is that we're not gonna make you two feel like some slapstick comedy team throwin' pies at each other. Although Josh, you know, you coulda at least picked a better cast color, huh?" he asked.

"Hey, I didn't pick this color, they put me out briefly to put the pins in. They just did pink. Toby?" Josh looked at Toby for confirmation.

Toby was staring at his hands, one finger scratching nervously over the cast on his right hand. "Toby?" Josh repeated.

Sam leaned back. "Here comes the duck," he muttered.

"Toby, were you there when they did his cast? When he came out of surgery?" CJ asked. Toby nodded slightly. "Toby?"

"Yes—yes, I was," he said, clearing his throat. Josh was looking at him with open mouth.

"You didn't," Josh whispered. Sam was grinning.

"Josh—"

"You _did_. Toby, you did. I can't believe it!"

"It looks good on you, Josh," Sam offered, amused.

"You told them to put on a pink cast? While I was out? Toby!" Josh cried, appalled.

"What difference does it make?" Toby asked, eyes downcast.

"What difference? What _difference_? A pink cast'll look just great with a tux for the next couple months!"

Toby looked at Josh, abashed but struggling to get his bearings. "Well, I'm sure I'll feel more sympathetic when _I can use my right hand again_!" he bellowed. CJ shushed them both.

"You two are incredibly, incredibly funny. Here Sam and I innocently left you two together, and you don't even play well together. We ate funnel cakes, saw the art and drama inherent in a butter Last Supper, dunked local law enforcement, and rode the tilt-a-whirl."

"And CJ almost barfed," Sam offered.

"Simply candy-apple overload. The point is, Sam and I won't make anything out of it, except to Leo and Charlie and Donna and Margaret. Right now, we have to cover farm policy, a senate campaign, and winning the Iowa caucus." CJ said.

"How hard could it have been, since he was unopposed?" Toby asked, still embarrassed.

"That's not the point, Toby. You know the president's gotta come out against the new English-Only law here, for affirmative action—we're at the biggest school in Iowa. I don't want Students Against Stupid Initiatives protesting outside the student union," Sam said.

"There's a group called that?" Josh asked, curious. Sam shot him a look. "Sorry. There should be."

"So, we need some lines," Toby said. CJ sighed and nodded.

"Yeah."

"Okay."

"But I was ahead, CJ, you shoulda seen the moves I had," Josh protested.

"Shut up, Josh," Toby said, struggling to flip his notebook open with one hand. He awkwardly clicked his pen and held it with the tips of his fingers, grimacing.

"_Click, clack, moo_," Sam said, a look of wonder on his face.

"What?" Josh asked. CJ had the same look on her face.

"The book?" CJ asked Sam.

"Yeah."

"Will someone tell me if I should care what's going on?" Toby asked in exasperation.

"_Cows that type,"_ Sam said with a grin. CJ started laughing. "I'm the duck!" he finished, laughing himself until tears appeared in his eyes.

Toby looked at Josh in consternation. "I dunno," Josh said.

"And we're in Iowa!" CJ shouted in laughter. Sam doubled over and it was some moments before he could speak.

"Sam, I can still hurt you with this cast on," Toby threatened.

"I—I'm sorry! I was trying to remember the name of this kid's book, about a farm, and collective action and animals organizing—"

"And?" Josh asked, annoyed.

"These cows find a typewriter and make demands of a farmer and the duck—the _duck_!—is a neutral negotiator. They get their demands met, and the ducks start to organize—I'm the duck."

"You're the jackass," Toby said.

"But the best part is the title," CJ replied, smiling so hard she thought her face would crack.

"Title?" Toby wondered.

"It's called _Click, clack, moo—Cows that type_," Sam said, bursting out in laughter again.

"Oh, hey, I saw that book, it's great!" Josh said, embarrassment momentarily forgotten as he remembered the book Donna had brought in after getting it for her nephew. He'd thought it charming and smart, and threatened to steal it from Donna's desk.

Toby looked at the three of them, his pen threatening to fall from his painful hand. The absurdity of the situation finally got through to him, and he let a smile appear on his face.

"So—you know anywhere I can find a cow to type the speech?" he asked, sending Sam and Josh into hysterics. CJ turned to him with a sweet smile and patted his cast before asking him what Toby expected:

"A butter cow?"

-end-


End file.
